


My Twin

by InoruMarufuji



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Basically Jisung discovering that he has a twin!!, Blood and Injury, Child Murder, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Felix are Siblings, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Han Jisung | Han-centric, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Minor Yang Jeongin | I.N/Han Jisung | Han, Minsung is just a plot device, Orphan Yang Jeongin, Orphanage, Past Infidelity, Plot Twists, Social Anxiety, The other members aren't in this much sorry, Yang Jeongin | I.N is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InoruMarufuji/pseuds/InoruMarufuji
Summary: He was wide awake in an instant, stumbling away from the dresser in terror as he locked eyes with a blonde boy inside the mirror, every single of his features clear as day even with the complete lack of light in Jisung's bedroom.From the wide brown eyes, the freckles on his cheeks and the tiny fingers that were resting on the glass to the sweater that hugged his figure loosely, his silver earrings and the way he cocked his head as he noticed Jisung staring.''Hi, I'm Felix.''------Jisung is an only child.An old mirror, a hidden photo album and a dead twin beg to differ.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 15
Kudos: 60





	My Twin

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two evenings as a stand-alone thingy, but I set myself up for a sequel, so maybe that's happening?

Jisung's gaze was fixed on the east exit, every second scraping past him at an agonizingly slow pace as he willed the double doors to finally open.

His knees were starting to lock up from where he was currently crouched in the middle of the university's flowerbed, snipping away at the dandelions that sprouted in between the colorful patches of amaryllis, magnolias, bellflowers and daffodils, the students not quite able to make up their minds about what they really wanted to dominate here.

It was a tedious task, especially with the flowerbed stretching along the entire east side, needing constant watering and maintenance to look presentable for anyone who might want to show off the university, but at least it kept Jisung occupied during the one and a half hours between his and Minho's last lesson before he had his one and only opportunity of the day to talk to him in private.

The guy was basically an untouchable god to everyone except his closest circle of friends and he was rarely seen without either Chan or Changbin at his side.

Except after his very last lesson, dance composition, that took place in the eastern building, his friends all the way over in the west complex meaning that he usually left on his own.

Plus, a little bird had recently whispered to him that Minho enjoyed looking at the flowers near the east exit and if Jisung could do _anything_ to get the senior year's hotshot to notice him, it was taking care of the flowers.

He didn't hold any high hopes to make some genuine conversation with the older, his heart always pounding way too fast and his brain short-circuiting whenever Minho's eyes lingered on him for even a second, but there was still the slight off-chance that what little courage he actually possessed wouldn't completely leave him at the sight of Lee Minho looking like a menu for the gods.

It was no secret that Jisung liked Minho.

In fact, he would argue that most people on campus were _dying_ for a chance to talk to perfection personified, bisexual dance major Lee Minho with a weakness for cats, flowers and confident guys or gals who had no problem with his dry sarcasm.

Jisung fitted about zero point five ouf of these three criteria, cruel mother nature bestowing him with an awful hay fever and making it damn near impossible to look anywhere close to gracious or elegant while he was doing his volunteer work, nose running and eyes itching nonstop even with all the medicine he always took.

Cats were a sensible topic in his household, his mother having a cat allergy and therefore not approving of her son being anywhere _close_ to the 'little devils', as she called them.

And lastly, the confidence part, arguably the hardest criteria to fulfill for Jisung since he was extremely self-conscious of himself, no matter what he did.

He knew it probably wasn't normal for him to struggle with breathing every time he was asked a question in class, his fellow peers' attention on him doing nothing except pushing his mind into overdrive.

It probably wasn't normal to avoid eating during lunch as much as he could, too scared that others would ridicule or laugh at him for the way he stuffed food into his cheeks.

And it probably wasn't normal to get sweaty hands, stutter uselessly and almost throw up at the mere prospect of addressing Minho or holding a conversation with him, the likes of which he managed to do with his classmate Jeongin just fine.

''Damn, it's hotter than the six shades of hell today'', the younger whined from where he was kneeling in the flowerbed besides Jisung, yanking a dandelion sprout from the earth and mindlessly tossing it in a bucket.

He was doing so very unwillingly, as he had told Jisung pretty much every time the older had forced him to help with the flowers by threatening to stop his tutoring lessons in English.

Jeongin was one of the only people who actually considered dandelions as flowers to the extent of actually having put them in a flower bouquet to give to his crush, but luckily, Jisung had interferred before Jeongin could make a fool of himself, replacing the dandelions by roses.

Not that it had helped in any way, a rejection was a rejection with or without roses, but at least he could say he had tried.

''How would you know how hot the shades of hell are?'', he muttered after a few seconds, gaze never leaving the east exit in fear of missing the few beautiful seconds it took Minho to step out and pass them on his way to his car.

He wasn't even working anymore and Jeongin _did_ elbow him in the side because of it, but frankly, he didn't feel it over the mix of dread and hope that pooled in his stomach. Maybe today was the day he could talk to Minho without embarrassing himself.

Despite telling that to himself nearly _every_ day in some attempt to be left alone by his stupid anxiety, he wanted to believe that today was special because for the first time this week, his allergy wasn't as prominent and he wasn't constantly rubbing at his eyes.

It wasn't much, but it had to count for _something_ , right?

''Of course I know, I was raised there.''

Jisung scoffed playfully at the comment, turning to Jeongin for a second to locate his hair and ruffle it, an action that was immediately met with a hiss and an annoyed slap on his arm.

Yeah, Jeongin wasn't really touchy, especially not with him. Or maybe the hot weather had anything to do with it, the younger's skin hot and glistening with sweat from the humid summer air and the manual labor he hadn't signed up for, but was doing anyway to save his English grade from certain doom.

It was his own fault for applying for an English minor after hearing one of the seniors – Chan, coincidentally – talk about how easy it was and how many more options for his future workplace had opened up for him because of it.

An English minor was easy enough for a native English speaker, who would have thought, but either Jeongin hadn't known that Chan was originally from Australia or he had wanted to prove something to his pride.

Whatever it had been, Jisung, as Jeongin's tutor, now had convenient blackmail material to get Jeongin to do various favors for him – which was really useful in a friendship with him because sometimes, he seemed the closest to being a devil besides the devil himself.

''So you really did crawl your way up from hell, huh?''

Jisung tapped his thigh in restlessness, slightly adjusting his position to be more comfortable and give him a better headstart for when he wanted to intercept Minho's way.

His heart was beating in his chest at such a rapid rate that it was making him slightly dizzy and the direct exposure to the scorching sun wasn't helping either. He was sure he'd have a sunburn _somewhere_ tonight, but at least his tan looked nice.

''The devil didn't like competition, but I'll reclaim my throne eventually.''

Jeongin shrugged, going back to digging around in the dirt, and Jisung kept watching the exit like a madman, his conscience freaking out about Minho being already gone despite him knowing that he would have caught the older if he had left through the east exit.

Of course there was always a possibility for him to meet up with his friends after classes and leave the premises through another exit, but Jisung still let himself hope that today wasn't the day.

And it seemed like fate was listening to his wish because it only took three more minutes for Minho to finally emerge from the building, hands full of books and looking sweaty from his dance classes.

At the sight of the older, Jisung instantly felt himself freeze despite his earlier plan to make today count, and with a helplessness that only the awkward mix of frustration and fear could give him, his already miniscule confidence deflated even more as he watched Minho pass the spot where the two of them were working.

He didn't even spare a single glance, obviously in a hurry to get home, and who was Jisung to interfere with his routine?

He wasn't nearly important enough to just insert himself into the situation and he didn't want Minho to think poorly of him, so he kept silent instead, figuring that the older would feel his gaze in his back and maybe, possibly, hopefully turn around before he left campus.

Needless to say, nothing happened.

Minho just disappeared down the path that led to the street and Jisung was still where he had started, having been unable to make a move for the past two years.

He _really_ wanted to tear his hair out.

In lieu of doing that, he simply let out a long breath, silently wishing for tomorrow to be better before he continued snipping away at the dandelions.

By the time they called it quits, it was already way past eight, but at least the first patch of the flowerbed was pretty again, so Jisung invited Jeongin for dinner at his place, knowing the younger had most certainly missed the timeframe for dinner at his orphanage.

 _The food isn't even that good anyway,_ Jeongin would always say, _I'll gladly move out once I have scraped together enough money._

Despite Jeongin being mostly nonchalant about the fact that he was – technically – an orphan, Jisung felt pity for him, pity and rage about the younger's parents abandoning him back when he had been a five year old.

It was incredibly cruel, the way they had treated him like an experiment to determine whether or not they were ready to bring up a child.

If they had been that unsure, they shouldn't even have conceived a child in the first place, but no, instead they had given up and just transferred responsibility to someone else. Cowards.

The orphanage that had taken Jeongin in typically dismissed orphans at age 20 when they were sure the orphan had secured a job, a place to live and a life for themselves and even if that was still one year away for the younger, he had already started to put some money from his side jobs aside to be able to afford an apartment in the center of Seoul, just how he wanted.

It was a lengthy task, but it gave him a sense of purpose and Jisung found it amicable where Jeongin produced that amount of inner strength from to keep moving towards his future on his own.

Jisung, as an only child, had lived his entire life relatively sheltered and privileged, so the two of them were already a very unlikely match, but they got along just fine despite all the occasional banters and half-hearted death threats.

Well, at least they were half-hearted on Jisung's end.

Dinner seemed fine enough for Jeongin, though still slightly awkward because Jisung's parents would never let him live down the time when he had tried to convince them to adopt Jeongin, the suggestion always shot down with the argument that they didn't have enough money for another child.

He guessed this was why he was an only child.

After Jeongin took his leave around nine, needing to be back at the orphanage for his _stupid, useless curfew,_ Jisung was ready to retreat into his room, maybe do some homework and call it a day, but just as he was putting his plate in the dishwasher, his father suddenly spoke up from the couch he had settled down on.

''By the way, we cleared the attic out today. Do you want to see if there's anything you'd like before we throw it away?''

''Sure'', he hummed, always up for a chance to redecorate his room a bit.

Since his family didn't have tremendous amounts of money, there was hardly any opportunity for him to purchase any decor from the furniture store with his rather pathetic pocket money and the little extra he made from working as a waiter every two weeks, so he gladly took what he could get.

The stuff from the attic had been relocated to their garage, the cheap lights flickering as he switched them on, and he searched through the pile of useless garbage in hope for a treasure.

Some of the items were past their best age, either broken, flaking or just straight up nibbled on by the rats that lived up there, but as he moved a canvas to the side, he set his sight on an old-fashioned dresser with adjoining mirror, the glass slightly dirtied, but still usable nonetheless.

As far as he could tell, the dresser was made of some baroque wood, the likes of which would fit perfectly into his room, and pulling at the drawers revealed that it probably hadn't been used yet, so that was something that would _definitely_ go into his room.

He rummaged through a pile of old posters and paintings, most of them either ripped or way too abstract for him to want to hang on his walls, and he almost gave up halfway when he suddenly stumbled over a painting of the Sydney Opera House during sunset, the sky painted a pretty orange and blue and a few ships cruising on the waters.

Why it had rotted in the attic, Jisung really couldn't comprehend, because it was so enticing that he instantly put it to the side, wanting to hang it on the wall opposite his bed that had always looked a little bleak to him.

Why did his parents even have a painting like this?

Sure, his mother had visited Australia once, but his father absolutely _despised_ the country, something about everything being able to kill you making him scrunch up his nose in displeasure whenever the subject was scraped.

Now that he thought about it, a lot of the items here reminded him of Australia, ranging from a little sticker set and a keychain with a kangaroo on it to an actual Australian flag, tucked away beneath a few half-decent looking photo albums that went to his pile as well for future use.

He turned the flag in his hands, briefly noting its well-kept state before depositing it back on the pile of trash, seeing no use for it at present.

He wasn't the biggest Australia fanatic – credits to his dad he assumed – and he didn't see the flag fitting anywhere in his room without it looking forced and awkward, so no matter how well-kept it was, back to the trash it went. Sorry flag.

With the dresser, painting and albums all secured, he flicked the light off, about to simply turn around and ask his father to hoist the dresser up into his room, but a rather ominous dark spot in the already dark garage had him pausing in confusion.

It looked like there was something there, an outline of some object maybe, but he could immediately tell that wasn't it when he strained his eyes to make out the exact shape, flinching back when he realized the outline looked hauntingly _human_.

He flicked the light in the garage on again, yet the spot where the silhouette would have been was completely bare and he rubbed his eyes in disbelief about himself.

What had he even expected?

Of course there was nothing. He was just tired after a long day of working in the sun and was making up weird hallucinations, nothing new there.

He pressed on the lightswitch, doing his best not to look at the silhouette as he returned inside, asking his father to get the dresser to his room.

The man sighed, but relented anyway and Jisung hopped up the stairs with a nail and a hammer to hang up the painting on his wall. He wasn't that talented with either of those and ended up hitting his own thumb an embarrassing amount of times, but at least by the end he had a pretty picture opposite of his bed, greeting him whenever he woke up in the morning.

The dresser his father brought in was set up on the wall beside his bed and he spent the rest of his evening cleaning the glass and starting to put various school supplies and the photo albums into the drawers before he undressed and slipped under the covers.

His phone was buzzing with a few messages from Jeongin, something about half of the orphanage suddenly falling sick after tonight's dinner, and Jisung texted back and forth with the younger for a while about how hilarious that was before sleep overtook him and he let himself fall into dreamland.

He awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door, slow, but steady disruptions of the sleepy state he was in and he groaned, turning around and mumbling something about the door being open.

The knock subsided for a moment and he waited for his mother or father to come in and tell him to get up for university, but when nothing came, he settled back down, allowing himself to relax and take deep breaths.

Maybe his parents had realized that it was still too early for him to wake up.

His inner clock worked quite well after two years and right now, it was telling him that it was still the dead of the night, hence no reason to get up just yet.

_''Jisung!''_

He made a noise of annoyance, trying so desperately to cling to that sleepyness that wanted to carry him away to his dream about eating cheesecake with Minho in the park, but the nagging voice was tearing at his conscience, and since he was already half awake, the pull to get up was stronger than the one to keep sleeping.

_''Jisung, hey!''_

''The fuck do you want?'', he muttered, not even caring about his tone of voice as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, very much cranky and very much irritated about being roused at this time of night. There better be a good reason for it.

 _''Come over here!''_ , the voice called again and for the first time, Jisung became aware that this was _definitely_ not his parents calling for him from outside.

The voice didn't even come from outside at all, it sounded as if it came from the freaking _wall_ next to his bed, right where he had placed the dresser.

_''The mirror, Jisung!''_

So he was dreaming. Experiencing auditory hallucinations.

He hadn't had an issue with either of those before, but maybe the sun had finally fried the rest of his barely functioning brain cells away. Lovely.

Whatever, he was awake anyway, so he heaved himself up from his bed with great effort and shuffled over to the mirror as requested, not really looking as he was too busy falling asleep on his feet to do much else.

He was so exhausted.

There came a knock again, this time sounding like it was made by someone knocking on the mirror and Jisung opened his eyes a little wider to make out just what was causing the noise.

A boy.

He was wide awake in an instant, stumbling away from the dresser in terror as he locked eyes with a blonde boy inside the mirror, every single of his features clear as day even with the complete lack of light in Jisung's bedroom.

From the wide brown eyes, the freckles on his cheeks and the tiny fingers that were resting on the glass to the sweater that hugged his figure loosely, his silver earrings and the way he cocked his head as he noticed Jisung staring.

 _''Hi, I'm Felix''_ , he introduced himself, a smile on his lips as if Jisung was a cornered animal that would bolt at any second.

Now that Jisung was actually paying attention, he noticed how incredibly _deep_ the boy's voice was, a stark contrast to his rather cute appearance and it only drove the fact home that yep, he was _definitely_ dreaming. Or tripping. He didn't know which was more comforting.

''I'm...''

He started his sentence, but immediately broke off upon remembering that Felix already _knew_ his name, which of course he did, if Jisung was truly just making this up.

He nervously took a step back, intimidated by the situation and also scared of his conscience for pulling this shit on him. This shit that admittedly felt very fucking _real_.

He bumped into the wall behind him, his room not really the best in terms of size, and slowly moved to the left, back to where his bed was, feeling freaked out when Felix followed him with his eyes.

''I don't know who or what you are –'' He mentally ridiculed himself for the way his voice was shaking – ''but I know you're not real.''

Felix gave him a funny look, the same one Jeongin used whenever he didn't understand an English word, but after a moment another smile appeared on his face, this one a lot less happy and a lot more bitter.

_''Well, I guess I'm not 'real' like you anymore, but I have existed in your world before. Look, you even have my old stuff!''_

He pointed at the painting Jisung had hung on the wall, a bright gleam in his eyes as he plastered himself to the glass in an attempt to see it closer.

_''Wow, it fits so well on your wall!''_

Jisung was majorly creeped out at this point, both by the fact that there was a literal boy inside his dresser's mirror and by the fact that said boy was forcing himself into his life when he didn't even know what kind of relationship they were supposed to have.

''Who the hell are you anyway?'', he asked, voice barely above a whisper and so unstable that it was a miracle that the boy was able to pick it up. ''Why do you know my name? Why are you inside a mirror? What is happening?''

Felix seemed to think for a few seconds, fingers tapping the glass from inside and causing quiet _tocks_ to disrupt the tranquility of the night, like a patter of rain against his window.

_''You took the photo albums, didn't you?''_

Jisung jerked at the mention of the albums, but figured that _of course_ Felix would know about them if he was truly just a product of Jisung's imagination. Was he? Jisung suddenly wasn't so sure anymore.

''No'', he claimed, simply to see how Felix would react to his lie, and to his surprise he broke into laughter, shaking his head in amusement.

_''Jisung, I was literally **there** when you took them.''_

Wait, he had been... there?

His mind flashed back to the event in the garage, to the weird silhouette he had made out in the dark and how it had disappeared as soon as he had flicked on the light.

''That was you?'', he repeated, still sceptical about this whole situation. ''I thought I was going crazy!''

Felix laughed again, the sound of it pleasantly bright and cheerful, before he made a dismissive gesture and pointed to the drawers of the dresser, right where he had placed the albums.

_''You're not, you're not. Open the photo album, it'll all be clearer. Well, I hope.''_

The way this boy, Felix, seemed unsure of himself was sympathetic and all too relatable, immediately putting Jisung a bit more at ease as he approached the dresser, eyes never leaving Felix's figure in fear of him suddenly trying something.

As if reading what he was thinking about, the boy held up his hands in a sign of surrender and smiled sheepishly, a short nod encouraging Jisung to open one of the drawers and pull out the first album he could reach.

_''Did you look inside already? Because if not, this might be a bit of a shocker.''_

More than a boy appearing in his mirror in the middle of the night? Jisung doubted that.

Regardless, he flipped the album open, instantly met with a ripped picture, tatters of the thing sailing to the ground, sad pieces of a story lost forever.

Felix seemed upset too, following the shreds with his eyes and letting out a huff.

 _''I liked the picture''_ , he mumbled regretfully and Jisung bent down to pick the pieces up, putting them on the dresser for later inspection.

''What was on the picture?''

Felix didn't answer verbally, merely shrugging and averting his gaze, so he flipped a few more pages, noticing scribbles and texts that had haphazardly been drawn over in an attempt to hide their contents.

The room was dark and he couldn't make out much, which caused him to lean closer to the mirror and the weird artificial light emitting from it as he tried to decipher any of the words written down there.

It was obviously his mother's handwriting, full of curves and unnecessary lines that no one could translate, but eventually he thought he could read _My son, Lee Felix_ and he abruptly flinched back, the album escaping his grasp as if the words had burned him.

''Lee Felix?''

He stared at the boy across from him, seeing the slightest trace of a nod, though that only served to confuse him even more because what the hell did his mother mean with _my son?_

 _Jisung_ was her son! He was an only child, his parents had made sure to stress that fact all throughout his childhood!

 _''Judging from your reaction, they haven't told you about me''_ , Felix concluded after a few seconds of silence, propping himself on his elbows and letting out a sound that was somewhere inbetween a snarl and a humorless laugh. _''Of course they didn't. How would they explain that they murdered me?''_

The silence that followed his question was deafening.

For a moment, Jisung could do nothing except stare at Felix, hoping for some sort of remark along the lines of _'Just kidding'_ , hoping for his conscience to finally reveal that it had made the boy up altogether, hoping to wake up in his bed with sweat running down his forehead from the absolute _nightmare_ he was experiencing right now.

Murder.

His parents wouldn't commit murder, they were honorable people, they were friendly, helpful, all-around carefree and amicable, maybe sometimes strict, but never to the point of using violence to get their message across.

They were _his parents, for fucks sake_ and he would _not_ let some random boy come along and destroy the precious bond he had with them.

For all he knew, Felix could be lying to him, manipulating him, but then again... _Why_ would he do that?

 _Why_ would his parents kill Felix? What was even their relationship?

''Who _the fuck_ are you?'', he asked for what felt like the tenth time, yet nothing in this world could have prepared for the answer he finally received to his question.

_''My name is Lee Felix. I am an illegitimate child.''_

He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he straightened up and locked eyes with Jisung, intense gaze boring right into his soul.

_''And your twin from a different father.''_

Jisung was fairly certain that he forgot how to breathe as the words sunk in, his body starting to shake uncontrollably and the first tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he shook his head wildly, desperate to deny something he had no knowledge over, desperate to protect the image he had of his parents in his head, desperate to wake himself up.

His nails dug painfully into his arm to no avail and he was positive he was gonna pass out if he didn't relearn how to take in air, every breath a fight with himself and the lump in his throat.

His lungs were burning, completely failing him and he opened his mouth to scream, only for it to come out as a hoarse plea that nobody would pick up on except for Felix.

Felix who looked at him with worry in his eyes, seemingly regretting having come clean about his existence.

Felix who was talking to him in a panicked voice, trying to calm him down before he suffocated on his own disbelief and denial.

Felix who was... his twin.

It was the last coherent thought drifting through his mind before he crashed to the floor in the middle of his room, instantly out like a light.

Jisung was ashamed to admit that he avoided his parents for the rest of the week, too shaken up by what had happened that night to even consider looking them in the eyes and possibly even an unspoken confirmation to Felix's words.

He really, really, really _, really_ wanted the boy to be made up, just an unfunny and hurtful hoax his mind had come up with and while he did his best to assure himself that it really was like that, his resolve and fake belief crumbled like dominos whenever he woke in the middle of the night to Felix's pleading for him to hear him out, apologizing for putting him in so much emotional distress.

Jisung would always ignore him, pressing his pillow over his ears and crying himself back to sleep, and if that didn't work, fleeing his room and making his way to their patio where he would sit down and watch the stars until he was calm again.

Sometimes the process took a few minutes, sometimes it took hours and sometimes, he couldn't calm down at all, rushing off to university first thing in the morning and waiting for Jeongin who was always ridiculously early as well, the natural early bird that he was.

The younger didn't show it, but he was worried for Jisung in his own way, his remarks and comments having a lot less bite than usual, and when Jisung didn't get better after an entire week, he even offered up free advice for once in their friendship, telling the older he should talk his issues out with his parents.

He meant well, but Jisung knew this wasn't just something he could go up to his parents with and ask them about, so he didn't and instead slowly lowered himself down into the rabbithole that were the albums, figuring he had to face the truth eventually even if he tried to keep up appearances that had been false from the start.

In a way, he was thankful to Felix for exposing his sheltered world as nothing more than facade, but in a way, he despised the boy just as much for dumping this on him out of nowhere.

All he had wanted was a cool dresser for his room and now he had gotten family drama as well.

Jeongin was lucky for not having to deal with any of this.

Most of the pictures he discovered in the album were either torn to shreds or were just plain old scenery of what he guessed was Australia, the thought causing his stomach to roil whenever he stumbled upon one of them.

The short sentences accompanying the pictures didn't give much away either, for they were mostly vague and up to interpretation, at least when they weren't completely scribbled out.

The most interesting sentence he found was an analogy about shooting stars that read _Two shooting stars destined for two different skies_ and Jisung spent a lot of time pondering what to make of it and if it was enough proof that he really did have a twin before he turned the page.

And there it was, obviously forgotten in between the pages, a photo of two boys, no older than the age of two and without a doubt him and Felix, with the caption _Twins!!_ next to it.

Could anyone have asked for more devastating proof?

He didn't think so as he cradled the picture to his chest like it was a treasure, weeping as he remembered all the lies he had been fed his entire life, starting from him being an only child to his parents being decent people that _weren't_ capable of murdering their own son.

What a joke.

Jisung sobbed and cried himself to sleep that night as well, not even bothering to come down for dinner, unlock his door or answer any of Jeongin's calls, his parents no doubt having asked the younger if there was an issue at university.

Were they even his parents at this point? Because all he saw in them were murderers who had robbed their own son of his life just because he was an illegitimate child from a different father.

And to think he had been out there and had called Jeongin's parents assholes when all _they_ had done was give up their child for adoption. Which wasn't exactly great either for a five year old, but at least it wasn't... _this_.

What they had done to Felix was horrible and revolting and to think they hadn't faced any consequences both disturbed and astounded him, for he had always believed that justice reigned strong in this country. Obviously not.

When he awoke that night to a hesitant voice calling out his name, he didn't waste any time to shove his blanket away and rush to the mirror, the sight of Felix still apologizing and even crying breaking his heart, especially because his twin hadn't even done anything wrong, he had merely showed him that he had been living a lie all his life.

_''I'm so sorry, Jisung, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have dropped that on you.''_

He wiped at his eyes, but the tears kept coming and Jisung really wished he could spend his twin any sort of comfort except placing his hand on the mirror and hoping the warm touch would reach Felix.

''No, no, it's fine, I'm glad you did'', he assured, though by the way his voice wavered dangerously he could immediately tell there wasn't much assurance left to give.

He didn't know where to go from here now that he had found out the truth, nor did he believe he would actually be strong enough to speak up against his parents if it ever came to that. They _were_ still his parents.

He was such a coward.

And somehow, Felix was the one apologizing while he didn't even have to in Jisung's eyes.

 _''I know it's not fine and I want to make it up to you''_ , he established, his tone giving away that it wasn't up for debate no matter how much Jisung tried to protest. He made an attempt anyway.

''Felix, you really don't--''

_''You like Minho, right? Let me help you!''_

Jisung actually sputtered for air at the sudden offer, his cheeks heating up at the mention of Minho, and he buried his head in his hands in a feeble attempt to try and deny that he _wasn't_ head over heels for the guy.

Just like everyone else.

The fact that Minho didn't have a partner yet was honestly astonishing with all the love letters that were thrown his way these days.

Telling himself that he actually had a chance with his senior was just wishful thinking, but who didn't dream of being _the one_ to Lee fucking Minho?

''I don't think there is that much to help'', he admitted, immediately getting waved off by Felix who seemed to be deep in thought already.

_''Nonsense! I'll make it happen!''_

His twin was so adamant to help him that it warmed Jisung's heart and he leaned his head against the glass, hoping Felix would interpret it as a gesture of gratitude for the help and also as an apology for being a coward.

He wanted to be better in the future, he really did.

''And afterwards, I'll see what I can do to help you find your rest, right?''

The question was once again a mere whisper, though from the way Felix looked at him sadly when he pulled back, it was obvious that he had heard it and was still blaming himself.

_''Sungie, I don't--''_

Sungie.

The nickname, normally only used by his parents, sounded like honey from Felix's lips, making him all the more confident to give a bright smile to the other and hold out his pinky to the glass.

''If you help me, it's only fair that I help you too'', he reasoned, seeing in Felix's eyes that the guy wanted to disagree, yet he sighed and held his own, very tiny pinky up to the glass as well, sealing their promise.

_''You don't owe me anything, but go off I guess.''_

Jisung peeled himself away from the mirror with a smile, holding Felix's gaze long enough to see his hesitation slowly shift into gratitude as well, before he wished his twin goodnight, shuffled back into bed and pulled the covers over himself.

And in the dead of night, with no other noise around except his even breathing, he dreamt of hearing a muffled _''Thank you.''_ from the mirror, the words laced with sincerity and sorrow.

_''I wish we could have been twins in this life.''_

When Jisung came to university the next day, all heads turned towards him on his way to class, something that would have normally made him incredibly uncomfortable and self-conscious, but only served to make him grin in amusement today as he soaked the attention up like a sponge.

He _knew_ he looked good, _hot and sexy_ even, as Felix had put it, and he had absolute faith that whatever plan the blonde had made, it was going to work.

''What the fuck happened with you?'', Jeongin asked him on their way to their first shared class, eyeing his get-up the way a horny teenager would.

He had styled his hair in a new way today, so that it was no longer neat and tidy, but wild and untamed, almost bordering on bed hair, and after raiding his closet long enough and getting past the same three sweatshirts he always wore, he had actually hit gold with a sleeveless top that was see-through around the stomach area, as well as jeans that were too tight in all the right spots.

He was showing off his body like he would have never expected himself to and somehow, his courage was rewarded with stares in the hallway, lewd whistles in class and most importantly, Lee Minho's attention.

The older hadn't commented anything when Jisung had strode past him like he owned the place, but the heat he felt on the back of his neck was enough to let him know that yes, Minho was staring and yes, he enjoyed it.

''Oh, you know'', he gave back, acting as nonchalant as Jeongin always did. ''I felt like reinventing myself.''

''Yeah, right.''

The younger looked more than a little suspicious of his words and for a second, it seemed as if he was about to press, but Jisung knew exactly what he had to say in order to steer the conversation into a more favorable way.

''So, it's been a while since we worked on the flowerbed.''

The first sign of horror passed through Jeongin's eyes, followed by the various stages of despair as he grasped for an excuse in as short a time as was humanly possible.

''It's been literally two days.''

It wasn't his best excuse, but Jisung would have probably let it go any other day. Not today though.

''Two days too long.''

Jeongin groaned, but he knew there wasn't really much he could say anyway without Jisung threatening to stop the tutoring lessons, so he simply made an exasperated movement with his arms as if he was flipping an invisible table over.

''Should have signed myself up for a real tutor while I had the chance.''

Jisung snorted and flicked the younger's forehead lovingly.

''May I remind you that _real_ tutors demand money from your ungrateful ass while yours truly does it for the absolute best price of _free_?'', he teased, successfully ending their little argument just in time for the bell to ring.

The day passed in a flash and before Jisung knew it, he was back on the flowerbed with Jeongin in the searing sun, tearing out dandelions again that just could not seem to get the message that they were supposed to sprout elsewhere.

He was getting his jeans all dirty on his first day of wearing them and while he did feel vaguely guilty about it, the thought was lost in his apprehension as he waited for Minho to emerge from the east exit just like every day.

''How is the food at the orphanage these days?''

Jisung normally didn't ask so directly, not wanting to scrape a sensible topic with the younger, but today he felt confident and the question really had been burning on his tongue ever since the night Jeongin had texted him that twenty-four orphans had gotten food poisoning from the simple meal they had eaten.

''It's probably the closest to _decent_ it will ever get'', Jeongin joked, tugging at a dandelion without any intention to get it out of the ground. ''But the meals in hell's kitchen are better.''

''If you're used to them.''

There was an affirmative hum before the two of them went back to working in silence, Jisung peeking at the east exit every now and then to make sure he wouldn't miss Minho.

''But hyung, did you talk things through with your parents?''

The question was sudden and maybe a little unexpected given Jeongin's lack of investment in anyone's problems, but he seemed genuinely curious to know whether Jisung had actually followed his advice, so he was quick to nod at the younger.

''Yeah, of course I did.''

What he didn't expect was for Jeongin to break into laughter, in a similar way to how Felix had reacted when Jisung had tried to lie to him, and he came to wonder if he was really _that_ incapable of lying or if everyone else was just better at reading him than he was at reading them.

''You're such a shitty liar'', Jeongin wheezed, causing Jisung to try and hit the brat with a few dandelions he had pulled out of the ground, all for show of course, as was the basis of their friendship. ''The _one_ time I give out my exclusive advice for free and you're not even following it. I am truly shocked.''

'' _Exclusive advice_ my ass! You literally just said 'talk to your parents', I could have pulled that out of my ass as much as you did!''

''And yet you didn't.'' Jeongin shrugged, bringing a hand up to wipe the sweat off his face – and maybe his smile by default too because his expression was suddenly somber again. ''But for real, I feel like you should talk to them. Especially if it's a matter that's more...''

He made some vague movement with his hands as if that would explain anything and substitute the word he had more or less intentionally left out.

It didn't, only leaving Jisung more bemused as he tilted his head in confusion.

''Grand?'', he suggested and he could see that Jeongin was about to say something _different_ , yet held back when there were suddenly footsteps on the grass, someone approaching them in the midst of their conversation.

Jisung had half a mind to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but when he turned around and came face to face with _Lee fucking Minho_ , he swiftly forgot about it again, scrambling to get to his feet and bow in respect in front of his senior while Jeongin snickered, finding amusement in the way he would most certainly embarrass himself tremendously.

But oh no, not today.

_Not with Felix's help._

''Hyung, good afternoon!''

Minho smiled at the overly formal greeting, clearly amused and not at all giving off his usual vibe of _Better than you, not worth my time._

He looked almost scarily normal, just a senior who liked to dance, but was made out to be some god on campus, and Jisung wondered if he was sick of that image by now, yet too proud to part with it.

Maybe he should take a step forwards to find out.

''Actually, hyung, I've been meaning to ask for a while. Would you like to go to this cute cat cafe around here? My treat.''

Minho was visibly taken aback and he feared he had gone too far too quickly, yet at the same time Felix's words of _just be bold_ echoed in his head, so instead of backing down, he stuck his chin out in determination while he waited for an answer.

His anxiety was _almost_ about to fuck the moment up for him when the older suddenly seemed weirdly reluctant, but he nodded after some more contemplating, deeming his schedule free enough to squeeze a little date in there.

_Date._

This was day one of following Felix's advice and he already got himself a date. Why hadn't he tried this sooner?

''Are you free right now?''

He gestured towards the flowerbed and Jisung exchanged a desperate glance with Jeongin, silently begging him with his eyes to go along and say yes.

Since this was Jeongin, he fully expected to have to make up a reasonable excuse himself, however, the younger surprised him with a benevolent smile.

''Hyung has already done so much, I think he deserves some rest.''

A blatant lie, Jisung had hardly done anything else besides stare at university and maybe pluck one or two dandelions, but _thank god_ that Jeongin left this part out as he acted like he was really going to continue working with his blackmailer gone.

They both knew he wouldn't, but Minho didn't, looking satisfied as he gestured for Jisung to lead the way.

The aforementioned cat cafe wasn't the fanciest or most popular spot in the city, but that meant it also wasn't as busy this time around, with the two of them actually being the only customers as they plopped down on a couch in the corner.

One of the calico cats that had been resting on a chair opposite to them got up in an instant, deciding that Minho's lap was a better place to be at, so it was up to Jisung to read the menu to him, the older too busy running his fingers through the cat's fur.

There was a soft and fond smile on his face as he leaned back into the couch, all the stress and responsibilities seeping from his body and in a move that was just as bold as it was stupid, Jisung let his head rest on Minho's shoulder, cuddling up to him like he was a cat as well that needed petting.

Rather than pulling away, Minho simply laughed and gave him the touch that he needed, a hand finding its way to his cheek and caressing it.

''Honestly, I never thought you were the brave type'', he chuckled, Jisung chuckling along as well, though mostly out of embarrassment about having been looked through once again.

He had never believed himself to be this brave either, still waiting for some anxiety attack to mess everything up, but he seemed to be good on that front which was both confusing and relieving at the same time since he had never gone this long without fucking shit up for himself.

''I think'', he spoke up, heart racing at the cheesy sentence he was about to drop. ''If it's for you, I can get a little braver.''

The statement took Minho by surprise and he wasn't particularly disaffected by it, as evident by the way he quickly turned his head away so that Jisung wouldn't be able to see the light blush on his cheeks.

_Hook, line and sinker._

Eventually, one of the cats – a black one with a white spot on its nose – deemed Jisung comfortable enough for a human chair as well and he all but beamed at the feeling of a fluffy ball curling up on his lap, purring contentedly while he scratched behind its ears, now and then taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

This was great.

He returned home that day with the biggest smile on his face and a number written on his hand in black ink, Minho refusing to write it anywhere else except on his skin, so obviously seeking an opportunity to hold his hand that it was endearing.

Jisung should have known his parents would fuck his life up once again.

The last weeks had been a dream, Minho taking him out on dates and flirting with him between lessons to the point where the two of them were rumor number one in every hallway and every class, so many girls and guys alike thirsting after what he had that he was almost constantly floating on cloud seven.

Felix was diligently giving him tips and tricks how to make his dates even better, how to improve his confidence further, how to wrap Minho around his finger, and every time he saw the older melting against him or reaching out to cuddle him – one time even to kiss him –, his heart made an excited jump in his chest knowing that Felix's advice paid off.

He was still royally ignoring his parents, but that was also mostly due to not being much at home at all anymore, more and more nights spent at Minho's place, sleeping over becoming a regular occurrence even during the week.

Minho liked his spontaneity and his need to defy his parents, having been raised by a semi-alcoholic dad and a cheating mom and therefore knowing how important it was to stand his ground and Jisung admired his strength to basically raise himself, feeling reminded of Jeongin who had basically done the same thing.

All around him people were strong and independent and he couldn't even look his parents in the eyes, his parents who had literally _murdered their own child._

Things were now progressing smoothly with Minho, so it was only fair that Jisung finally helped Felix to find his eternal rest or something. He had seen enough movies and read enough books to know how this was going to go and even though he wasn't thrilled about the prospect of having to find Felix's corpse and giving it a proper burial, he fought his disgust down with the knowledge that he was doing something good.

He entered his home one day after university, ready to throw his stuff into a corner of the room, wait until nighttime for Felix to turn up and ask him what exactly he needed to do, but his plan was spoiled before it even began – by none other than his murderous parents who had, for some reason, removed his dresser from his room, nothing more than an empty spot where it had been before.

To say Jisung was pissed was an understatement, he was absolutely _fuming_ , not remembering giving his parents any kind of permission for being in his room, something they had established very early on in his teen years.

No permission, no trespassing.

It was as simple as that, as much of a safe space as he could have made it for himself, and his parents had always respected it one way or another, even if they hadn't been happy with the arrangement.

Seemed like they broke this rule too, just like how they had broken anything and everything in this household, including Jisung himself as he stormed down the stairs, already yelling for his parents in an accusing tone.

He didn't receive an answer which only made him huff in annoyance since he _knew_ they were always there when he came home.

''Mom! Dad!'', he called again, louder when only silence came back, but there was still no sign of life from his parents and it was just the slightest bit unnerving as he checked the kitchen, then their bedroom and then the attic, consciously leaving the basement for last.

The place gave him the chills, always had and always would, and he didn't necessarily _want_ to go down, but if they wanted a game of cat and mouse, then who was he to say no?

His steps echoed creepily on the stone stairs as he descended down into the basement, numb fingers grasping at the walls for support, cold seeping into his bones right away despite it being literally the middle of summer.

An unnatural chill ran over his spine, the metal door at the bottom radiating danger, hiding a sinister presence behind it, but Jisung didn't hesitate to reach out for the icy handle and gently press against it.

A whimper.

High and childlike, completely terrified as it filtered through the crack in the door, and figuring that it had to be Felix, he pushed the door open fully, revealing utter chaos displayed among the stone floor.

Pieces of paper, torn up snippets of what had been left of the album lay discarded in piles on the ground, drenched in a sickly sweet substance that Jisung didn't dare identify as his gaze slowly followed the trail of piles, up to the corner where his dresser had been pushed into a corner.

Or... what _used_ to be his dresser.

The wood was splintered, sharp daggers sticking out of the once smooth surface and turning it into an ugly and abstract piece of furniture that had been rendered unusable for good.

The drawers were torn out, seemingly hacked up into pieces, the corresponding axe that had been used to do it still stuck in the dresser, the blade shiny and coated with a crimson liquid that Jisung wasn't sure where it came from.

The whimpers picked up and he spotted the mirror, ripped away from the dresser and cracked as it was, leaning against one of the walls tauntingly, presenting him with the fruits of his failure.

There was blood lining the cracks, like cuts made in skin, and Jisung dashed towards the mirror, Felix hunched over behind the glass, looking and sounding like he was in serious pain.

''Lixie... Oh my god, Lixie, what did they do to you?''

His question was posed in urgency and suppressed rage, but it took nearly a minute of wheezing and choking on Felix's end for him to regain enough composure to form an answer.

His eyes were glossy and unfocused as they searched for Jisung's through the broken glass and Jisung would have given everything to be able to properly comfort his twin, the knowledge that he couldn't tearing at his heart strings.

 _''They found the album''_ , Felix managed to press out with as steady as a voice as possible. It still sounded hollow. _''They know about me. They know that I...''_

A series of coughs interrupted his sentence, but there was no doubting what he had been trying to say.

_They know that I live in the mirror._

''It's fine, it's fine'', Jisung assured his twin, unsure where he was even taking his reassurance from. ''I'll fix it, I'll help you, just--''

A heavy thump reverberated through the room.

Felix flinched. Jisung froze.

The two of them held eye contact, frightened eyes meeting incredulous ones, before Jisung carefully heaved himself up and shuffled over towards the door that had fallen shut behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible to pick up on the presence of anyone outside.

It was completely silent, the tranquility coating them in a thick blanket that suffocated every noise, every ragged breath he could hear from the mirror, every slow step he took and every panicked gulp as he searched his brain for answers.

There was no wind down here, the only window in the basement firmly closed, and yet the door had fallen shut all on its own.

He tried to press down on the handle, useless rattling penetrating the air as the lock prevented him from opening the door and he felt the panic rise in his chest, his hands suddenly shaking and goosebumps appearing on his body.

He was locked in.

The realization was dreadful, devastating, downright horrendous, and Felix's sobbing didn't make it any better, adding to the cacophony of alarm bells and frantic thoughts swirling around in his mind.

He hurried over to his twin to comfort him as best as he could, every step sounding like he was walking on broken glass, stinging like a fresh cut on the sole of his feet, and he hesitated right before he picked up the mirror from the ground.

Felix was still sobbing in fear and distress, practically begging for consolation, but there was a shift in the air that made Jisung hesitant to come any closer, and as the unpleasant noises of anguish suddenly shifted into a gloating laugh, he made a dash to the only window, shaking fingers fumbling around with the handle.

 _''How can you distrust your own twin?''_ , Felix cackled, his deep voice setting Jisung's teeth on edge and making him scramble to open the _damned_ window, knowing that even though Felix was inside the mirror, he probably wouldn't be for much longer if he didn't _hurry the fuck up._

''Did you stage this? All of it? Did you lie to me?'', he panted, glancing back over his shoulder only to make out the same silhouette he had noticed in the garage, perilous red eyes focused purely on him, a new unsuspecting prey, and he doubled his efforts, realizing he wasn't going to open the window this way.

_''We're twins, Sungie, why would I ever lie to you?''_

He swore he could _feel_ Felix's breath ghosting down the back of his neck and he jumped to the side, stumbling over a bucket on the floor and crashing right into an empty shelf.

The wooden planks hit him in the face, hindering his sight for a moment, and while they probably hurt, all he could feel in that moment was the adrenaline pumping through his body.

Weapon. He needed a weapon.

''We're not twins'', he forced out, vaguely aware of the ache in his right hand as he grabbed the first thing he could find – a hammer –, watching Felix approach him the way a hunter would approach an injured animal.

There was no haste in his steps, only cruel satisfaction and the desire to draw Jisung's suffering out as long as he could.

_''No, we're not. I made that up.''_

Despite only being able to see a silhouette, he could hear the smile in Felix's voice, fueling his anger as he swung the hammer at the shadow in front of him, the object passing right through without doing any damage.

Yeah. He should have guessed.

_''But you always had such faith in me, Sungie. You always listened to me.''_

''Shut up!'', Jisung hissed, fighting with the tears from being played like this by someone he thought he could trust.

Why had he trusted Felix in the first place? Why had he so quickly latched onto the prospect of having a twin? Why hadn't he asked any questions?

He saw Felix reaching for him, the darkness that barely grazed his skin making him wonder just _what_ he actually was as he evaded the other, hoisting himself up despite the protests in every muscle of his body and aiming for the window again.

He had to get out of here. He had to escape.

He brought the hammer down on the window's lower corner with as much force as he could manage, turning his head away as shards exploded around him in a violent rainfall, but it hardly mattered when his life was in danger.

Out. He just needed to get out.

No matter how.

Glass broke again. Digging into his skin. Scraping past his face. It didn't matter.

There was a scream and a fierce tug on his legs, the floor coming up to meet him, his head making a sickening thud as it collided with the stones, and he couldn't breathe as the feeling of glass piercing his lungs overcame him.

He choked, pushing and screaming at Felix to let go of him, though there was no chance of him hitting anything when his enemy was _already dead._

 _''I don't want to be in the mirror anymore''_ , Felix seemed to hiss in his ear and Jisung flailed around helplessly, aware of the fact that if he couldn't help himself right now, no one could. _''I will take your body.''_

''The hell you will!'', he spat, trying to come up with anything he could really _do_ right now, his hands desperately searching around on the dirty ground for anything he could use to fend Felix off.

The weight on his body was suffocating, holding him down so cruelly that it punched the air out of his lungs, and the beating of his heart became prominent and painful where it plodded in his chest, his fingers finding nothing except dust and tiny stones that wouldn't suffice in fighting Felix.

He managed to grasp something bigger, something metal that felt like a cross and he figured it was as good a guess as any as he hit the silhouette on top of him with it, to his own astonishment even successfully as Felix jerked up as if Jisung had burned him.

The weight holding him down abruptly disappeared and he used his chance, pulling himself up and continuing to mutilate the window.

Shards once again flew around the place, turning his skin into a mess of cuts and bruises, yet he didn't have any time to whine about that as long as he could escape this basement with his life, so without regard for his safety, he fought his way through the broken excuse of a window pane as soon as he was sure he would fit.

He scratched himself up severely on his way out, long gashes created through the sharp remains of the window, bringing about a burning sensation that made him want to pull back and spare himself the torture, but he pushed through the feeling, his decision accelerated by Felix lunging for him again.

Jisung was barely out of reach, thanking the heavens and every god in existence for this lucky turn of events as he took off running – or limping – down the street, not even knowing _where_ he was going, but having to go _somewhere_ nonetheless.

Minho crossed his mind, and while he did try to assemble where he lived, his petrified brain completely gave up on him, only supplying him the one address he had been able to recite in his sleep ever since third grade.

The orphanage.

He was scared that Felix would follow him and subsequently endanger the lives of the orphans, but he literally didn't have anywhere to go, so with a last peek over his shoulder where he could make out the eerily quiet afternoon streets, he dashed off towards Jeongin's place.

The lady who opened the door probably had the shock of her life, seeing Jisung all bloodied and struggling for air, but he merely pushed past her to Jeongin's room, not even bothering to knock before bursting in and immediately dissolving into tears and useless rambling.

Jeongin had been sitting on his roomate's bed, playing a game of chess with him, though he abandoned it in an instant upon seeing the state Jisung was in, urging his roommate to go and fetch the nurse before helping his friend to sit down.

''Jesus Christ, what happened?'', he queried, only able to get some sobs and scared whimpers as Jisung tugged at the younger's comfortable sweater, silently demanding cuddles and reassurance.

Jeongin wasn't happy to oblige, but he did anyway, understanding that whatever had gone down must have really shaken him up.

''Is this because of your parents?''

His parents. He didn't even know where they were.

Felix had most certainly lied about them too, just like he had lied about everything, and of course he had happily taken the bait, believing a _demon_ over his own flesh and blood.

The thought made him shiver and cling to Jeongin's side even more even as the younger patted his head in an attempt to comfort, the sentient clumsy and awkward, but still doing its job.

When the nurse came to look over his injuries, Jeongin momentarily tried to detach himself from his side, though Jisung whined and begged enough for him to stay, trying to keep the older calm while he was patched up.

''Hyung, you really have to tell me what's wrong, otherwise I can't help you.''

Jisung shook his head again, garbled pieces of a confession escaping him nonetheless, wanting to be heard, wanting for the younger to _explain_ the situation to him even though he clearly couldn't.

''Demon... He... Mirror... Twin... I...''

Jeongin's expression reflected confusion, understandably, and to a lesser part recollection as well, but that was absurd. How would _he_ know anything about demonic twins that lived in mirrors?

''He's hallucinating'', the nurse explained, igniting a spark of seething flames inside his body because this entire experience was definitely _not_ a hallucination and she could just fuck right off.

Seeing the need to correct her flare up in his eyes, Jeongin gently shushed him, instead asking for some tea to calm Jisung's nerves and get her and his meddlesome roommate out of the way.

As soon as the two of them were gone again to retrieve the tea from their kitchen, Jeongin fixated on him with a knowing gleam in his eyes, one that would have scared him in any other situation.

''Hyung, you're definitely not hallucinating.''

Relief consumed Jisung as he nodded feverishly, glad to have found an ally, yet before he could express so, Jeongin's gaze suddenly moved to somewhere over his shoulder, his breathing hitching slightly.

''And I'm guessing this is your demon?''

There was no change of tone in his voice, which somehow made the question itself all the more horrendous, and Jisung shot up and turned around, coming face to face with Jeongin's bedroom window.

And Felix.

The demon smirked at him from his place inside the window, head supported by his hands and looking almost bored as he flicked a hand in casual greeting.

_''Look at this, someone believes you.''_

The mocking statement shut down Jisung's entire rationality and without thinking, he grabbed Jeongin's chair from next to his desk, bringing it against the window in a clash of glass and wood that had Jeongin shielding his face from the sudden assault of shards.

It wasn't enough.

Jisung knew it wasn't enough, it would never be enough, the recognition weighing heavily on his shoulders like an invisible burden he would never be able to get rid off.

A headache formed behind his forehead and he brought up a hand to feel the skin there, hot to the point where he could safely say he was coming down with a fever, but who cared about that right now?

He surely didn't.

A strong urge to get out of here manifested in his mind, the desire to bring as much distance between himself and this orphanage as possible overwhelming, and he could feel his body starting to move without him actively doing something.

''Wait!'', Jeongin protested, taking hold of his arm, but Jisung knew he couldn't stay around here for a second longer if he didn't want to hang a ghastly curse over the orphans who had their safe place here.

He would not ruin that for them.

Felix was dangerous and volatile, capable of things Jisung had no grasp of, and he had to be taken care of in some way.

How he would do that, he had no idea, but he had to _leave_.

''If you're going'', Jeongin correctly interpreted his silence, a stern expression on his face. ''I'll come with you.''

''No, this is not your business.''

The younger huffed in exasperation like he so often did when they had one of their silly debates over silly things, the action so out of place right now that it was hilarious. Except he didn't feel like laughing.

''Listen, there is a time and place for playing hero and this isn't it!'', he insisted, and Jisung was about to rise to the challenge and run down every unnecessary danger that came with Jeongin joining him on this mission when their argument was interrupted by the nurse coming in to bring their tea.

As soon as she caught sight of the broken window however, she stilled, eyebrows furrowing in irritation as she placed the cups down.

''Why is the window broken?''

Neither of the boys were able to supply an answer other than _It was the demon's fault_ , a statement that would get them carried off to the nearest mental hospital for sure, so they found it wiser to simply keep their mouths shut and look at the floor sheepishly.

The awkward silence in the room didn't persist for long though, broken by a hushed laugh, deep and derisive as it was, and only able to be picked up by Jisung.

_''Yeah, why did you break the window? Did you really think you could get rid of me?''_

Jisung's eyes darted around in panic, trying to make out _where_ the voice was coming from only to find a reflection of Felix in his _tea_ , staring up at him with fake hurt etched on his features.

He was... he was actually going insane.

In one rapid motion that was equal parts panic and hysteria, he had sweeped both his and Jeongin's cups off the table, glass shattering and tea spilling all over the floor, the nurse giving him an offended and petulant glare, but it didn't matter as Jisung made a run for the door as if his life depended on it.

It did.

There was nowhere he could possibly be safe ever again, no way in which he could avoid windows, mirrors and now even liquids for the rest of his life.

Behind him, he thought he heard Jeongin giving chase, yet he could hardly make out anything else except his rabbit-paced pulse pounding in his temples or the white noise in his ears as he steered his body towards the main entrance, trying not to look at any surface where Felix could project himself into.

Despite nobody being in the halls, he could feel arms grabbing at him, pulling him here and pushing him there, always within reach of a mirror or a window.

Sharp nails scratching along his already blemished skin, leaving long streaks of red that blended in with all his other wounds, stinging and burning as a physical display of his very real experience.

Harsh exhales brushing past his ears, sometimes just a mere gust of air, sometimes the aftermath of a breathy chuckle.

Felix knew that he couldn't escape, relishing in the futility of his actions until Jisung was at his end and he could come to claim his prize.

He wouldn't let it come down to that.

He wasn't going to wait around until it happened.

 _''Neither will I''_ , Felix's voice reached his ears, his body reacting instinctly by now as he tried to locate where the demon was. His gaze met Felix's in the glass of the main entrance because _of course_ there had to be a glass window in the door. _''I've waited so long in the mirror already. I'm fed up with waiting.''_

Jisung weighed his options, his panic-stricken mind deciding to bolt upstairs even if he knew he wouldn't be able to outrun Felix unless he was somewhere outside where there weren't as much possibilities for him to appear. Or maybe there were. Who knew.

Jeongin was yelling for him from downstairs, some mumbled warning that didn't reach Jisung's ears as he sprinted up the marble stairs, taking two at once as if that would actually do anything.

He wasn't facing forward, just keeping his gaze on his feet and making sure he didn't stumble while Felix was giggling like a maniac, pleased with the development and all too eager to claim Jisung's body. Wouldn't happen.

''Hyung!'', Jeongin screamed from somewhere behind him, darting up the stairs as well with terror written all over his features. ''Hyung, don't go upstairs! There's a mirror there!''

Even though Jisung clearly knew better than to look, his head snapped towards the top of the staircase anyway, catching sight of the giant mirror that nearly reached up to the ceiling, as well as Felix's towering reflection, and he came to a grinding halt halfway up the stairs, allowing Jeongin to catch up with him.

''We need to get out of here, I know--''

 _''You won't get in my way!''_ , Felix growled and Jisung could see in Jeongin's eyes that the younger was about to give this demon some shit, having never backed down from a verbal challenge in his life, but before it could come to that, there was an ear-shattering clangor as the mirror spontaneously burst into millions of pieces, every single one sharp as a knife.

Jeongin screeched, cowering down on the stairs in order to minimize the contact surface for the shards, and even though Jisung wanted to do the same, he found that his body suddenly locked up, unable to move as he was entranced by the iridescent reflections in the shards, the way the light broke so beautifully in them, the way they seemed to hover elegantly in the air above him, just waiting to come crashing down in a violent firework of pain.

''Hyung, _get down!_ ''

Jeongin almost ripped his arm off upon pulling Jisung to the floor, protectively leaning over him as if he was the big brother, and Jisung had half a mind to be embarrassed about it, yet figured gratitude would be a more appropriate reaction right about now.

The rain of shards was endless, even more so with Jeongin bent over him at an awkward angle that had the marble staircase digging into Jisung's back, but he shut his eyes and endured it, trying not to wince when the occasional stray shard ripped his skin open with a ferocity and raw power whose only source could be pure _hatred._

_''I hate you, Jisung.''_

He could almost swear he heard Felix's voice hissing that sentence into his ear, animalistic frustration and disdain entering Jisung's body like a knife and stabbing away at his insides.

He couldn't breathe, but Jeongin was trying so hard, so he held out, eyes focusing on the younger's pained expression, taking in the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the way his entire body shook at the onslaught of shards that ravaged him.

''Thank you, Innie'', he whispered, in hopes that Jeongin would pick it up even over the haze of excruciating pain he had to be in right now, and from the faint nod the younger gave it was obvious that he had, their close proximity only contributing towards his goal of being heard.

It was after a sheer eternity that the assault subsided, Jeongin collapsing on top of him without any disregard for Jisung's comfort, not that he could blame the younger when he had taken a bullet for him. Or, well, millions of glass shards.

''Get off, you're heavy'', he grunted, receiving a playful slap from Jeongin as he pushed himself up, his eyes scanning the sea of shards all over the floor like he was trying to see if Felix would turn up again.

''We need to go, right now. I know someone who can help.''

Jisung didn't argue, only nodding as he got to his feet, his back hurting from being pushed into the staircase, though it felt petty to even feel _anything_ as he examined Jeongin's torn clothes, dozens of tiny red rivers running down his arms and back, most of the cuts not deep, yet being prone to scar and taint his body.

Not to mention the fact that they had to hurt like a bitch.

''Innie, I--''

''You can thank me by letting me come with you'', Jeongin cut him off with a voice that didn't allow for any discussion and Jisung sighed, knowing he didn't have any other option. This was essentially his own trick used against him. Great.

He took the first step down the stairs, only for his body to nearly collapse on him.

His vision went white, a searing and burning kind of white that stretched out into every fiber of his body, and he convulsed, a shock running through his system unlike everything he had ever experienced before.

There was an unknown pressure in his head and it was getting harder and harder to keep himself up, even as Jeongin encouraged him to lean on him.

Everything felt heavy, heavier still with every step he took to the point where he just wanted to sleep.

Everything hurt, a dull ache turning into a raging inferno inside his body, scorching away at his insides and setting his skin on fire. His cheeks especially.

At the same time, everything felt so... _unreal._ So distant.

Like some fever dream come true they were finally escaping from.

Like a guiding star at the dark sky that would guide them back to safety and solace.

Jisung really believed that they would be okay.

They only had to find whoever of Jeongin's acquaintances could help him and everything would work out. He would finally rid himself off Felix once and for all.

''Hyung?''

Jeongin was glancing at him from the corner of his eye, apprehension and discomfort written on his face and Jisung attempted a smile despite the overbearing pain as he brought a hand up to ruffle his hair, the energy required to do so almost making him pass out.

He leaned on the younger a little more, slinging an arm around his shoulder as they fought to get down the staircase, having to be careful not to slip on the shards.

''Yeah? What is it, Innie?''

Jeongin's eyes were focused on his cheeks, some leftover sweat running down the side of his face and giving his curious gaze a nervous flair.

He looked... _afraid_.

''Jisung hyung, since when do you have freckles?''

Jisung's smile shifted slightly into a vicious grin, visibly unsettling Jeongin as he tried shoving the older away from him, only for both of his wrists to be held in an iron grip that was sure to bruise later.

_''Oh Innie, I've always had freckles.''_


End file.
